


The Night's End

by CalIsInTheLibrary (Allspark5101)



Series: Guess I'm gonna have to fix series 12, huh? [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: And while she did acknowledge grahams feelings i feel like she couldve also responded a lot better, FUCK I'm gonna have to fix all of this arent i?, Fun fact: the working title for this was "graham deserves hugs too", Gen, I know this isnt how cancer works but this is a show about a time travelling alien let me live, Ok i just. I just want thirteen to be hugged, Post-Episode: s12e07 Can You Hear Me?, So heres my take
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22697992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allspark5101/pseuds/CalIsInTheLibrary
Summary: After the events of Can You Hear Me? Graham and the Doctor have a hearts to heart.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Graham O'Brien
Series: Guess I'm gonna have to fix series 12, huh? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632574
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	The Night's End

**Author's Note:**

> I am of the opinion that thirteen needs a hug. After Can You Hear Me? I am of the opinion Graham and the Doctor need to have a chat. A good long one. Maybe about gallifrey. But we know that’s never gonna happen in canon so here we go! Here’s Thirteen putting the advanced medical technology on the tardis to good use, because It’s What He Deserves and she likes to fix things so she doesn't have to focus on herself

The Doctor had managed to find a good balance between “open and friendly” and “never shares anything personal” centuries ago, back when she had brown eyes and brown hair and freckles - she missed the freckles - and had been doing a decent job so far of deflecting any and all questions about her past  _ if she didn’t say so herself _ . 

The blue lighting of the Tardis console room bleached her of all colour, blonde hair almost white in the light, and she felt all of her many hundreds of years at once. The Eternals, the Timeless Child, all these mysteries were beginning to pile up on her, and she didn’t know how much more she could take until she cracked. With a deep sigh, she turned back to the console, switching the scanner on and starting to check for any foreign Tardis trails within the vortex.

She didn’t know how long she stood by the screen before a steaming cup of tea was placed in front of her. An inquisitive sniff and a small sip later, she gave a grateful smile to Graham, cupping the warmth of the mug against her chest. 

“I thought you could do with a cuppa,” he said, leaning against one of the crystalline struts. 

“Six sugars - well remembered!” she half smiled around the cup, checking behind her for any important buttons before shrugging and leaning back anyway. She took a deep breath, setting the cup down beside her, and started.

“Look. I know I wasn’t the most…..” she trailed off, searching for the word she wanted. Open? No. Friendly? Nope. Accepting? Definitely not. “...accommodating. Earlier. When you said about what happened.” She paused, dragging a console screen from seemingly nowhere to face her.

“So…” she said, “I figured I could maybe make it up to you somehow.”

“No, Doc, you don’t need to go out of your way or -”

“But I’m not! It’s simple, and it might help you rest easier at night.” She looked at him, lights burning orange behind her, and quietly pleaded, “Please. Let me scan you. It won’t hurt, promise!” 

“You said that last time!” he groaned.

“This isn’t like last time!” she practically whined. “C’mon Graham, I’m trying to do something nice! Just trust me.”

He scoffed, placing the teacup - West Ham, of course - on the grating of the floor anyway. Once he straightened up, he gestured at himself. “Fire away, Doc.”

She grinned brilliantly at him, and twisted to flip a few switches and turn a few dials. There was no bright light, no pain, just an odd sensation like a shiver running down his spine. Within seconds she was waving him over, eyes lit with a hint of their old sparkle. 

“Here,” she pointed at a circular squiggle on the screen that meant absolutely nothing to him, but seemed to be good news.”This bit -” she jabbed at a particularly complicated squiggle, “means that your readings are within the normal range for people who are - three years? Into remission?” He nodded, still completely baffled by what he assumed was her language, and then shook it once he processed the question. 

“It’s closer to four now, actually.” He cleared his throat awkwardly as she frowned, turning a crank with more force than was probably necessary. The screens changed again, the text appearing in a calming shade of yellow.

“Four years...still well within the expected range. Congratulations Graham O’Brien, you are officially cancer free.” She flipped the screen back, the picture of nonchalance as she picked her overly sweet cup of tea up again. 

Graham paused for a minute, wondering if he should ask about the thing that had been  _ clearly  _ bothering her since they’d had their run in with the Master, but decided against it. Instead, he clapped her on the shoulder, smiled, and headed back to bed. 

She’d tell them. They just had to give her time. 

  
  



End file.
